


left on read

by MxThmxNn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Bisexual Disaster Lance (Voltron), Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Gen, Lance (Voltron) has a Crush, Langst, M/M, Self-Harm, Some Fluff, canonverse, clone shiro - Freeform, keith is older than lance, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23475202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxThmxNn/pseuds/MxThmxNn
Summary: *tfw ur space bf leaves you on read forever*
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 63





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Aw man, I feel kinda bad for this but until I can figure out how to continue the story in a way that makes sense, I'm putting this fic on hiatus. My updating's been pretty bad as it is but I'm slowly becoming dissatisfied with every chapter I add so It'll be a while before I come back to this thing. Sorry for that.
> 
> \- ye boi 6/26/2020

His bed was cold, uncomfortably so. Lance didn’t like that but what else could he feel? It had been several earth months since Keith left for the blades, but they stopped talking after the first two. One missed call turned into ten, twenty, thirty-five. Standard text conversations became a one-word answer to his essays, and eventually, nothing. Nothing. The lack of attention from Keith engulfed his mind. 

And suddenly, he’s drowning in a mess of sheets and pillows. The lovely silken robe he had on became hot and suffocating. His eyes welled up with glassy, blubbering tears and ran down his cheeks, melting the deep sea mud mask into the pillow just below his cheek. Quivering hands clapped over his mouth as he attempted to silence his sobs. He’s not sure if it actually works or not. 

_ “Just fucking reply already.”  _


	2. the transmission

The droning alarm woke him up early the next morning. Lance awkwardly stumbled around his room, trying to peel himself out of the the pool of mask and tears he fell asleep in. The lanky boy scooped his day clothes into his arms and bolted to the communal restroom down the hall. 

“Hey! Lance, morning bud-” Hunk immediately stopped when he actually caught a chance to take a glance at his best friend. He took in Lance’s messy face and matted hair. His eyes were a swollen red and he was tripping over his feet. The tie of his robe dragged on the ground behind him; the clothing tucked under his arm sagged in crumpled heaps. “You’re looking, uh,” The Yellow Paladin trailed.

“Like shit? Yeah, I know,” Lance replied. “God! I cannot believe I left my mask on over night!” He wailed to Hunk, who was fixing his hair at the space-sink. 

“Are you good buddy? I mean you have been waking up super late nowadays,” Hunk commented, knitting his eyebrows together in the mirror. 

Lance retreated his head from the metal basin of the sink adjacent to Hunk’s, his bangs now soaked. Lance spit out the water from his mouth before answering. “I always wake up late.”

“Not this late, you’re gonna miss breakfast.”

“I’ll be fine, bro. I just need to freshen up.”

“Whatever you say dude.” Hunk’s heavy steps trailed away from behind Lance and into the hallway.

Lance lifted his face from the sink once more, examining his face in the mirror in front of him. He looked closely to see if any remnants of green clung to his eyebrows and in his hair. 

“Good enough,” he muttered and tuned his attention to the heap of rank clothes that sat on the counter beside him. Lance pressed down on the wall to access his toiletries and picked the slim bottle of body spray. It didn’t smell that great, reminiscent of the Garrison locker room, but it was all he had. The mass of fabric was immediately drowned in the sickly scent of middle-school boys before being shoved onto Lance’s body.

Lance was winded from speeding all the way down to the dining hall. Coran, Pidge and Shiro were staring intently at a device they had obtained from a small-operation Galra base from the nearest asteroid belt. Hunk was shoveling the food goo into his face with gusto and the princess was sitting at the end of the table. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting, it takes time to look this good.” He called to the room, only answered with glares. 

“Lance, your tardiness is unacceptable. It’s become a habit for you,” Allura lectured. “A paladin must be awake and vigilant if we’re going to stop the Galra any time soon.”

Lance leaned over the nearest chair, popping out his hip and extending his legs. He shot a finger gun with a smile. “Easy princess,” The Blue, now Red paladin smirked with confidence. Lance was obviously a natural flirt, but his voice had a hollow, metallic tone. “I’d tell you that there isn't a need to hound me, but you’re so cute when your angry,” he continued. 

“Lance!” Shiro shouted in disappointment, a ripple of annoyed groans followed soon after.

The princess’ face sagged and her eyebrow twitched in annoyance. “Lance,” she started.

Lance jolted in embarrassment, crossing his arms awkwardly over the expanse of his chest. “Jeez, sorry,” he lamented, shrinking into himself.

…

An alert that the castleship was receiving a transmission immediately brought the group to attention. Everyone ran to the central command of the ship with efficiency. Allura extended her hands onto the posts at the center console as the projection appeared.

The face appeared in front of them. The figure had his face covered by a black mask with purple accents, Lance immediately caught on that this was from the Blade of Marmora. His eyes widened in attention and he inched closer to the console to scrutinize the video closer. The blade operative removed his mask to reveal Kolivan’s stern face. 

“Kolivan, what is your situation?” Shiro asked.

“I have received information from a correspondent in sector Beta-Five that Voltron backup may be necessary. A small moon that orbits the closest star has been experiencing frequent visitation from Galra ships, complicating our operation. I will be sending coordinates now.” Kolivan’s words continued to drag on but Lance had stopped paying attention. Shiro and Allura talked back and forth about “something, something stealth attack, blow up the moon.” But Lance didn’t care about that, he’d been staring at the base behind the Blade leader’s head, hoping to snag a glimpse of a particular operative. He craned his neck around to see if he could identify Keith’s mask pattern from the people walking around in the back but he couldn’t see. A tight frown stretched across his lips.

“Any other questions?” Kolivan asked.

“Where’s Keith?” Lance interjected immediately. This was the moment he was looking for. He scrambled to attention, anticipating the answer. 

The Blade’s leader twisted his face into a worried expression. “Keith was deployed onto the moon on Beta-Five…”

Lance’s face lit up, he would finally get to see Keith again.

“... but he had split off from the troupe to gather intel and we have not obtained any form of contact from him in ten quintants. We are unsure if he has fallen under Galran capture or has been injured.”

The stupid smile on Lance’s face immediately sank into a comical frown. This was not the answer he’d been expecting. Pain and realization set in at once as Lance began to back out of the situation. 

“Paladins, please resume your training, it will take at least 30 vargas to reach our destination by teladuv.” Allura commanded.

“But princess,” Coran added. “I will need to steal Pidge and Hunk from you to help crack this device from the base. We’ve determined it is time locked, if we don’t open it in time it will set off a massive explosion.”

“Very well, then. Lance and Shiro, you may rest until the device is opened and decrypted. Group training will resume when they are done, please be on time.” Allura glared at Lance, who was backed into the corner of the central hub. “You are dismissed.”


	3. the room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lance walks into the wrong room (and I accidentally put fluff in this langst)

The hallway back to his room was empty. Everyone else had something important to do, but him. This was fine, Lance was in no position to do anything important right now. His head spun as he continued to digest Kolivan’s words. 

_“... but he had split off from the troupe to gather intel and we have not obtained any form of contact from him in ten quintants.”_

He took a couple weary steps closer to his door.

  
  


_“ We are unsure if he has fallen under Galran capture or has been injured.”_

Lance’s hand rested on the sleek metal. He noticed as his fingers began trembling as the door seemed to get farther away. Soon, he started to move away. He felt his back hit the wall and he slipped down onto the floor. 

“Dead,” his voice trailed off into nowhere. “He could be dead. And I never got to tell him I loved him. I never said goodbye that final time. He must’ve been so tired of me that he went on a crazy-stupid blade mission and died without me,” Lance’s voice started quivering as the first few teardrops collected at the corners of his eyes. This meant that Keith never wanted to read those lectures. He didn’t need to know how Hunk accidentally spilled his overpriced moisturizer all over Shiro. He didn’t care that Lance missed making fun of his “awful” mullet. He did not give a single damn about Lance at all. He was just a very persistent memory in Keith's beautiful mind. 

Every time he inhaled, his breaths were sharp, painful even. His ever-cold hand rested over his eyes as he wept. The hallways were caving in on him, and at this point nobody cared. 

Some time had passed and Lance had been laying there for about ten doboshes. The hard stone of the floor began to push into his delicate skin a little too much and he’d decided to stand up. 

“Agh,” The Red Paladin grumbled as he peeled himself up. He took a few steps forward and pushed on the door in front of him. The handle refused to come undone for longer than it normally would, which was unlike his door. “Come, on- Quiznak!”

The door had finally relented as Lance tumbled straight through the opening, nearly landing face-first. When the teen had recovered and stood back up onto his feet, an unfamiliar scent flooded his senses. A dusty smell, reminiscent of burning and soft cologne permeated the air. It wasn’t bad by any means but it definitely was not the sweetly perfumed air of his own. _This was Keith’s room._

“Shit!” Lance cursed after realizing his mistake. “Aha, well I guess I should just leave now,” He boasted to nobody, or perhaps those pesky space mice hiding in the vents. A deep red blush burned its way from his neck to his cheeks. “I should leave,” he repeated again, to himself. 

It’s true, he _really_ wanted to leave Keith’s room but it was almost like he couldn’t. He was stuck, frozen in time, much like the room. The floors were clean but the bed was made poorly and his bedside lamp was left on. Naturally, the ship’s power source was trillions of times more efficient than any on Earth, so Lance supposed it was fine. _I guess looking around won’t be so bad. Nobody’s gonna see me anyway. Right?_

Just to be sure, he didn’t want the princess, or anyone, to think he was an obsessive pervert; Lance made sure to check all the vents in Keith’s room to see if the space mice were trying to catch him red-handed. He then walked his way over to the bed in the corner and sat down, sinking into the mattress. 

Lance twiddled his thumbs, rolled around a little bit, Mr. Team Leader’s room wasn’t anything much to behold. But oh did Lance miss it, when Keith would let him hang out in here when his bed got too cold. Or when he’d do push-ups on the floor while Lance gossiped about girls. When he’d hold him close after crying. And suddenly everything was Keith, Keith, Keith. 

No. He wasn’t going to start crying, not right now. Sure, all of his organs were tied into knots and his eyes were beginning to water, but that’s not important.. He was in here to snoop around, not flood the room of his former team leader, comrade, ~~love interest~~ with tears. He looked around for anything interesting, maps, lewd magazines, old shirts, anything that would expose who Keith Kogane really was. 

And that’s when it caught his eye. Keith’s jacket. That obscene red cropped one that Lance loved to hate. He immediately scrambled to his feet to go inspect it. 

“I cannot believe he’d just leave this here. On the floor to gather space-dust, tsk!” Lance exclaimed. He brought the article of clothing closer to his face and took in that same intoxicating scent. It probably hadn’t been washed since the Black Paladin had stepped down and left. His hands began to grip the rough fabric tighter as the sensations got to him. He was never going to get over Keith, and boy did this make it apparent. The blubbering tears began to fall down his cheeks again as those same memories of Keith flashed on the underside of his eyelids.

Lance slumped down to the floor again, holding the jacket in his lap tenderly, sobbing and remembering why Keith kept his jacket. And then he drifted off into some semblance of sleep.

…

“Ugh! Why do you still keep this gross old thing?” Lance hurled the jacket at Keith who was curling a small barbell.

“Why?” He asked back, not paying Lance any attention. “Why do you keep yours?”

“Nuh-uh don’t put this on me,” Lance complained. Stepping over to the foot of the bed and laying down. The springs in the mattress creaked as Keith continued exercising. “Come on, Mullet ‘fess up.”

Keith set the weight down on the floor and shifted around to sit perpendicular to the Lance who was stretched over the bed. His long limbs nearly extending to the floor. “It was my dad’s I’ve been wearing it since middle school. Of course, outside of school, those Garrison officials did _not_ like me wearing it over my uniform.”

“Middle school? Ew, you’re like how old now? That’s disgusting,” Lance chuckled.

“You wanted the truth, yeah?”

“But seriously, you’re such a geezer, dude.”

“I am not a ‘geezer’ I’m nineteen.”

He had done it now, starting an argument with Lance. He was so ready to go off. “Hey! Nineteen is already adult age, which makes you an old ass man!”

Keith always replied so naturally. “But that makes you just a kid, what are you? Seventeen?”

“And three-fourths.”

“Well, _kid_ , you might as well listen to your elders,” Keith chortled. Before Lance could even let his next counter pass his lips, the older extended his leg out, kicking him to the floor.

“Oof! You dick!” This was war. Lance grabbed his shoe off the floor and chucked it at Keith. Soon enough, this became an awkward game of wrestling, and pinning. Laughter filled the room, laughs that were genuine and came from the core. A beautiful sound, really. 

“It looks like I, have won.” Keith was holding Lance under him, their faces almost touching. He watched as Lance’s face began to burn a flaming red under his dark skin and freckles. Lance looked up at Keith who stared down at him with an intimidating smirk. All of his senses were smothered in Keith’s scent. Clean, smoky, vaguely sweaty, but Lance obviously didn’t mind. There seemed to be no ill-intentions in his face, but it was definitely cocky. “Hey, Lance?”

“Yeah?” He stuttered out.

“You’re laying on my jacket,” Keith stated plainly. Oddly enough, he still had Lance pinned on the bed when someone knocked on the door. Both paladins' eyes widened in shock, easily giving each other the “oh shit” look.

“Lance? Keith?” Pidge shouted, knocking on the door. “Hunk made these really awesome pastries out of fruit from an Unilu trader. Come on guys, if you’re not gonna reply I’m just gonna-” When Pidge opened the door she saw… Keith and Lance sitting 2 feet from each other talking about their jackets. 

“We’ll be down in a second,” Lance said plainly.

“Alright. Weirdos.” Pidge shut the door and walked away. And she _definitely_ heard the laughter on the other side of the door when she left.

…

“Paladins! Report to your hangars in approximately five doboshes!”


	4. the big space fight

They had formed Voltron, and were obviously heading to kick Galra ass, business as usual. But this was not business as usual. Everyone else was doing fine, Pidge engaging cloaking; Shiro requesting visual on the moon; Hunk was feeling sick, and of course the princess. This was Voltron. The saviors of the universe. Of course, there was a catch, a weak link. Lance. Without someone on this new team to insult, there was nothing for him to do but be the right-hand man (literally) to his former childhood hero. This would be any flight student’s biggest dream. Right? This has been his dream from the start, flying the swiftest, fastest of the lions, alongside Shiro. Yet, it didn’t feel like a dream, Lance was a dead weight with no Keith to quip with. His only value was Keith’s rival. And now, his rival could be dead. Lance was back to just the okayish sniper that flirted with every intergalactic semblance of a pretty girl. Nobody useful or important. 

“All right team! Back into lions!” Shiro commanded.

“Roger.”

“On it.”

“Let’s go.” 

The team divided back into individual lions as the moon drew near. Light clouds began to color what was previously black, silent space. The impossibly far out constellations dulled behind the nebula. 

Suddenly, Lance felt his lion convulse, throwing him off track. “Woah! Red, take it easy will ya?”

“Ack!” Pidge shouted. “It appears we’re getting some turbulence on this planet’s atmosphere. Coran, don’t come within our range until I can scan this entity for biorhythms.”

“Got that, Number Five.”

Lance watched from the eyes of his lion as green waves were emitted out from Pidge’s lion.  He watched the team struggle in their lions as they flew closer and closer to the moon in question. The Red Paladin began to clock out, nothing new. He set the controls to autopilot as his brain continued to retreat. Retreating to the corner of his mind that he knew he wasn’t supposed to go back to. But Lance _always_ gave in, it was simply an itch he _could_ reach.

_ “You fucking creep,” _ He thought.  _ “I can’t believe you spent so much time creeping around in Keith’s room. What if he came back right then and there. Puh-lease as if he didn’t already think you were the weirdest most desperate guy on this side of the Balmera. God, Lance…” _

He began to spiral. His lion floated on a chunk of debris that had been dislodged from the moon itself next to the other lions. The group was cloaked in the thick dust that the moon was covered in. The group began to mobilize but Lance was still stuck in the cave of harsh thoughts.

…

Lance, per usual was stationed on a tower right outside the port, holding his bayard and ready to shoot. He watched with tired eyes as Shiro and several members of the Blade of Marmora spoke at the door to a very unassuming grey building. Allura stood beside the tallest operative and Pidge was already inside, giving the castle access to the internal camera system. He watched and heard them talk about something important. How there may or may not be some actual Galra stopping by this moon to store liters of quintessence on the inside of the moon’s core, nearly catching the Blades. This was a base used as a middle-man to encrypt communication transmissions in another space-taco. The blades were obsessed with that concept.

Lance decided to stand up and stretch his fatigued legs. Crouching in the sniper position forever would just uselessly tire him. He needed to at least  _ look _ like he was strong and ready to fight. He circled around the tower, hearing more and more ways the group didn’t need him. Pidge was pulling a switch, Hunk was assisting in communication repairs (and fawning over space tacos.) And Lance was on watch, standby, waiting for something important to happen. As he circled the tower, he became less and less attentive. His fingers went numb and his eyelids sank down halfway. He was beginning to remove himself further from himself and the mission. He was less of a Lance and more of a drone. Sometimes, he liked it like that, he didn’t want to feel and right now,  _ he couldn’t feel. _

And that’s when Lance saw the cruiser descend from the atmosphere. The same pointed gray fighter model he’d seen and obliterated so many times. He immediately crouched back into position, tightly gripping his bayard, his eyes nearly crossing from focusing so hard.

“Uh, hello, guys,” he hesitated into the mic. “We have our first Galra cruiser at two o’clock! Stay alert everyone, Galra cruiser at tw-”

“Not right now, Lance.”

“We’re busy right now.”

“Lance! Stop shouting, it’s intercepting the transmission.”

“We can handle them later, okay?”

_ Are you fucking joking me? _ Of course, the second the enemy appears, the team is busy, too busy for Lance at least. The very threat they were looking out for was inches on their trail. If those Galran bastards overtook the base, captured the blades,  _ and _ team Voltron, who knows what kind of disaster would sprout from that? And naturally, it was all going to be placed on Lance. Lance the worst lookout ever, Lance the weakest paladin, Lance the useless sniper, he could go on forever. 

Seconds later, a chill ran down Lance’s spine as something, someone loomed behind him. His grip began to loosen as he attempted to turn around to aim his bayard directly at the figure behind him.

That is until a singular hand forcibly pushed him into the rough stone of the pillar. Lance kicked and flailed, trying to worm his way out from under the person apprehending him. Each attempt at resistance earned him more pressure. He couldn’t activate the glass visor on his helmet in time, meaning that every push forced his cheek against the stone. He felt as the surface cut into his delicately moisturized skin and warm blood started to pool at the edge of his lip. 

“I was going to ask you to identify yourself, but I see we have something slightly more valuable here. The Blue Paladin of Voltron,” The voice was bitter and gruff. Definitely some Galra who barks orders at underlings. But there was a softness unlike Zarkon or Sendak, this officer was female. In Lance’s mind, he could try to woo his opponent.

“Ay, pretty lady, no need to be so- ow- harsh. Yeah, you can get my autograph if you,  _ shit _ , let me go. It is of course me, the Blue Paladin, Lance.” 

“Hm. Pathetic. I’m sure you’d look a lot better tied up and presented to the high witch Haggar.”

Lance was easily lifted off the ground by the neckline of his armor. His limbs flapped once again attempting to get a better grip on his bayard but the commander had forcibly knocked it away. Lance was close enough to scrutinize her rough facial expression. One of pure, seething hatred. 

“You resist, you die. I’m sure I’ll still make a commission on your corpse.” Both of her hands inched upwards to grasp at his throat. His vision began to blur and double, a dark film formed a tunnel in his sight. His opponent gripped harder. In retaliation, Lance used the last of his strength to give a strong kick to the commander’s abdomen. His foot was able to reach just below the breastplate of her armor. “Argh! You!” she scowled. One of her hands released from Lance’s airway, and his sight started to return. He could only manage to smirk in response.

Lance relished in the small amount of air he could take in. He smirked in slight victory. Naturally that wouldn't last long as the commander raised her armored gauntlet and landed several blows to his face. Sharp spikes and specialized metal easily shattered the glass at the top of his helmet, nearly entering his eyes. The combination of heavy blows and brutish technique left Lance broken and bruised, everywhere. She looked down at his pathetic face as he was easily thrown to the ground, bending like a limp noodle. Lance observed the grin on her face as she was about to deliver her final blow.

“Commander! The Paladins of Voltron are resisting more than intended, several of our men have died, requesting backups.”

“ _ More Paladins _ , I should have known, I’ll be right there.” She turned to face Lance. “ I wouldn’t try escaping if I were you. That is, if you could.”

Lance watched the unknown commander fade into the distance as he began to cough up blood. Each cough brought up more liquid that he began to choke on as it tried to run back down his throat. It was useless, he couldn’t do anything. 

“Lance? Lance?”

“Requesting sniper back up like, right now!”

“Lance?”

His vision faded into nothing, right when the team needed him.

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uGh this took forever,, sometimes canonverse things take forever to write...


	5. read 11:55 a.m.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel really bad for forgetting to update, but ahaha school has been wearing me out a bunch ;w;

“Is he up yet?” 

“No, Allura said he’d need another few vargas.”

Lance’s eyes began to twitch as he saw figures stand over him. The bright castle light glaring into his eyes caused his blurred vision to focus. It was Pidge and Shiro. Their faces were cast in blue and it was evident that Lance was in a healing pod back on the ship. 

“See, told ya he’s up,” Pidge giggled. “I’m gonna go get Allura.”

He watched as she stepped away from his resting place. Her fingerprints faded slowly from the glass in front of his face. And Shiro soon stepped away, presumably to go follow her. 

_ Wait, come back. Why am I in a pod? What happened?  _ Lance thought to himself. His desperate reflection looked back at him as the only people in the room left him there. He lay static in the pod for who knows how long. He inhales pure, heavy oxygen and his muscles are completely relaxed onto the solid surface of the pod. 

Allura returned with Pidge. Her dress trailing behind her as she went to unlock the pod, letting Lance out of his isolation cell. When the glass slid open, Lance lunged forward, eager to finally be free again. He crashed straight into the princess as his knees gave out from beneath him. 

“Lance! Are you okay?” She asked him, swiftly catching him. 

“Well, now that I’m in your arms I-”

“Lance, please take this seriously. You nearly perished in that fight against commander Sydal. I need to know if your condition is still critical.” Allura sat the lanky boy into the nearest chair and scrutinized his expressions. 

“ ‘M fine, you know that. I’ll be back on my feet before you know it. I promise,” Lance sighed. He tried his best to give another convincing smile. But of course, it was fake.  _ All of them were fake. _ “I just need to head back to my room to get my jacket. It’s kinda cold.”

“Very well then, take your time we need you in peak condition for training today. We are sparring against the gladiator again.” The princess spoke in a gentle tone, indicating that she knew Lance was frail right now.

The thought of having to face the gladiator later hung over his head. It was a heavy burden. Clearly it had been a rather long time since the last mission, quintants maybe. And the long walk back to his room was a temporary relief. Where he could return to a comfortable space, no space robots to beat the shit out of him. No teammates to tell him they dragged him down. It was just Lance. 

…

The ocean breezy smell of his air freshener welcomed him back home. Back to the very little slice of Earth Lance had with him within the compact quarters of his room. He began to absentmindedly hum a tune as he averted to his first course of action: getting the hell out of the healing pod suit. 

The suit was skin tight and a hideous gray-beige color. Sure, Lance’s universal beauty gave him the ability to work any look, but this, this was ugly. It was some type of constricting alien fabric that was somehow cool on his skin, but itchy. His elongated hands clumsily grabbed at the back to find the small zipper at the back. 

“Quiznak, Quiznak, Quiznak!” Lance complained as the closure refused to relent. When he finally got the first centimeter of the zipper down, an immediate relief washed over him. He pulled it down to his waist and his torso was finally free. 

Freezing air attacked his back; he didn’t care. It was amazing, he could feel the expansion of his rib cage as his lungs greedily accepted the surrounding atmosphere. He ran his hands down his torso, just to realize he was actually alive again. The red paladin continued his examination, all of his freckles, birthmarks, old scars,  _ slightly newer scars, _ were all in the place they were before he was placed into the healing pod. Everything was exactly the same until his hand hit his back.

Lance’s eyes widened with shock as a feeling of scar tissue brushed his hand. That was  _ definitely _ not there before. He turned around in front of the mirror to see a massive scar blooming from his ribs to the center of his back. It was probably from his skin rupturing as he was thrown around like a ragdoll by commander  _ whatsherface. _ The shape curled and twisted, following the curvature of his shoulderblades. It was notably lighter than the surrounding caramel skin. It was a jarring sight. Lance was 18 and already looked like a seasoned veteran, scarred everywhere.

“Shit,” he said under his breath. “Girls think scars are badass, but I look like Frankenstein’s monster. Oh my god.”

It took him a while to get past all his injuries and battle damage. However, he made it, and was finally changed back into his standard outfit. Lance sauntered back over to his bed and flopped down. He stared up at the ceiling, into gray nothingness as his hand absentmindedly searched the edge of the mattress. He picked up his phone and looked blankly at the orange screen.

_ You can do it, Lance. C’mon, man, don’t you fucking dare- _

Click.

Lance opened his messages and looked at his most recent contact. Keith. His eyebrows knitted together and his eyes narrowed as he thumbed through the tens if not hundreds messages he’d sent Keith since he last replied. It was nearly a decaphoeb since he did. 

The teen sighed as he glanced down at the final message. Sent a few weeks ago. Left unread- 

_ Wait.  _

\---

**RED**

And so I basically nearly died. Not like u listen to my rants, but whatevs. 

Also sorry for sending mega paragraphs, the story was crazyyyy. If u care

Ya grump >:((

_ Read 11:55 a.m. _

_ \--- _

The time stamp on Lance’s phone became obsolete ever since they left Earth; that didn’t matter. Keith Kogane actually  _ read _ his messages. After not replying, not reading, not paying attention to him for several months. This was it. Keith was  _ alive.  _

He began to laugh like a madman. The belt came straight from his core, this was joy. His cheeks hurt from how tight they were stretched, and his stupid grin was imprinted into his face. It had been ages since the smile on his face was genuine, and it needed to be shared.

Lance ran like hell down the halls of the castle. His jacket flew in the draft of the cooling system and his feet felt light as air. His knuckles turned white from how hard he gripped his phone. 

Lance reached the center of the castleship, seeing everyone working out the training strategy. 

“Hey guys! Everyone! Super important stuff I got right here!” he shouted at the top of his lungs upon crossing the archway. 

“Lance! What’s happening? Is there some sort of emergency?” Hunk questioned concernedly.

“Nononono, it’s not something bad. It’s Keith,” he said waving his phone. “He’s not dead! He’s okay, he read my texts, you should relay this to the blades. They need to know!” Lance gulped in copious amounts of air as he suddenly became short of breath. 

Breath after breath the silence among the group became more noticeable, and awkward. Lance observed as his peers gave criticizing looks.”Did I say something wrong?” He asked.

“Lance, we thought there was an emergency,” Coran replied with a low tone, twirling the edge of his mustache. 

“Yeah, I thought what you were gonna say was urgent, not that Keith read your texts. And when did you care about Keith replying to your novels?” Pidge said, tapping away at her computer. 

“There was no need to scare us like that,” Hunk sighed.

“It’s not that important to our task at hand. We’ll contact the Blades when we can, but that is not our priority. And besides, we should suit up for training it’s almost time. This is no time for sudden distractions, Lance,” Shiro commented. “We’re in a war.”

“ _ Right _ , I’ll go suit up now.”

The team split up to go change into their armor, ready to reconvene in a matter of ticks. 

Changing was a task, that was meant to be precise and as fast as possible. Do a sloppy job and you could die in battle, take too long and you burden the group. Even this stupid little task was a team effort, one of maximum focus, it required a clear head. Lance’s head was anything but clear. Shiro’s words began to swirl and fester within the depths of his conscience. 

_ “This is no time for sudden distractions, Lance.” _

“Of course,” He muttered to himself, adjusting his chestplate.

_ “We’re in a war.” _

“Right.” His gauntlets and shinguards were clicked into place. “It’s not like anyone just forgot about the heart of our team or anything. Or that anyone here actually cares about my insights. No,” Lance whispered as he ran to the door of the training deck.

… 


	6. the big ouch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I feel like every canonverse Langst has some sort of training thing

The premise was simple, very simple. Work as a team and take down the gladiator. They’d done it millions of times before. Even if this new version of the team could beat the robot with minimal effort, their movements were clumsy and contrasting. Shiro’s strength in head on combat did not work well with Lance’s long-range style. Hunk defended well but it often got him caught by Allura’s attacks which benefitted Pidge none. Her need to plan before quick, short range attacks was simply not compatible. 

Often, the team was tangled up in each other’s restraints, blocked by their own attacks. Perhaps it was due to the fact all five focused on fighting one opponent. Their friendship was never tested during these tiring exercises, after all everyone needed to get stronger. _To be stronger._ Their fight was not yet over anyways. 

Shiro gripped the metallic soldier by the wrists. He focused on restraining the gladiator by its arms, “Allura, now!” He called. 

The princess cracked the whip materialized by her bayard, effectively tying up the opponent. She was strong and knew the machine well, but she couldn’t hold it still for long. She struggled to keep it in place as Lance began to charge towards it. He was caught in her peripherals and she ordered him to shoot. 

Lance aimed, his eyes trying to be laser focused on the gladiator. He took his time so that the marked point on the chest of the opponent was in line of fire. 

“Ngh, Lance hurry up. I can’t hold it much longer,” Allura strained. Her grasp on her bayard was tense, and it begun to slip from her hands. “Lance!” she screamed.

Without thought, the red paladin shot. His gun let out a blinding ray of light, headed straight for the robot. 

_Quiznak._

He was too late, the gladiator had broken free from its restraints, deflecting his beam with its staff. The ray was deflected, hitting Hunk’s hand. This in turn caused him to release his grasp of his bayard, the cannon was soon returned to its basic handle form. Not to mention the new burn sustained by his wrist as the heat from the ray was able to pass through the fabric of his suit. Nothing was created perfectly after all. 

The flying weapon caught Pidge off guard. She attempted to defend herself from the falling object. The gladiator had sensed her motions and managed just so happened to catch her chin on the end of the staff it was wielding. The flexible metal deformed under her weight and with assistance of the soldier’s forward thrust, the green paladin was sent flying. And her helmet dislodged from her head before she made a crash landing by Shiro’s feet. 

“Coran, stop the gladiator. Now!” The team leader commanded. 

The gladiator suddenly froze and returned to a limp, neutral position in front of the remaining paladins. Everyone rushed to her side as Shiro placed her head on his lap. _This was definitely one of the worst 35 seconds of Lance’s life._

“I’m sorry. I’m so, _so_ , sorry,” Lance apologized. He looked intensely down at Pidge, who had a fresh bruise peeking its way through the skin of her forehead. Shiro held her bangs back in attempt to asses the injury. “This is all my fault, entirely,” he muttered, now facing the yellow paladin. 

“L-Lance,” Pidge struggled. 

“You need to rest, save your breath. We need to assess the severity of your concussion before we continue, and Hunk, we need to immediately treat the burn before we continue,” Allura articulated with concern. 

“All right, paladins, take ten and we’ll see what happens from there.”

The team affirmed Shiro’s words as they walked to the common room down the hall. Coran began tending to the injuries. He scanned Pidge’s head to check if any bones had been displaced or if any swelling occurred in her brain with some sort of device. 

“So, what’s the damage?” she asked.

“So, Number Five, I’d say that the damage is not terrible, However, since the injury occurred when you had not protection, it is bad enough that I would not continue training for a few quintants or until absolutely necessary. It’s what you earthlings refer to as a severe concussion.” Coran placed something cold on top of her head and continued to advise her proper care protocols.

Lance watched feeling extreme guilt, this was his fault after all. His fault that Pidge was out of commission. That he failed Allura’s single command to shoot (he’s a self proclaimed sharpshooter for Alfor’s sake). Every single one of his shortcomings were simply just because his mind was so focused on if Keith had texted him back or not. _Stupid._

The boy felt a hand land onto his shoulder, and he jumped in reaction. Lance turned to face Allura. The last person he wanted to see right now. 

“Look, Allura, I-I’m sorry-”

“Lance, I don’t want your apology.”

“What?” He felt his hands begin to sweat under his gloves and his core began to shake. After all, this could mean millions of things. And there was not a chance this was her blushing confession of her undying love for Lance. 

“You have been consistently under-performing over our last few missions and training sessions. I absolutely cannot tolerate this, we are in a war with the Galra. Such weaknesses cannot be afforded. Is everything okay with you?”

_Of course. The war._ He thought.

“It’s because nobody wants to hear his sob stories about how his space boyfriend won’t text him back,” Pidge interrupted harshly before he could speak.

“That’s coming from you, you threatened to leave us to look for your dad and Matt. Besides, this is not a conversation you need to be in. And Keith is _not_ my boyfriend!” Lance exclaimed. The words slipped from his lips before his mind comprehended how angry he sounded.

“I’m sorry I sound bitter, it’s not like you basically let me get a severe concussion because you took too long aiming or anything,” Pidge retaliated. “And about the boyfriend comment, everyone can totally hear you mutter all those things under your breath about Keith. Not to mention, you guys were always in each other’s rooms. Were both of you entirely oblivious to the fact that we could hear you yelling at each other? The walls are not soundproof, Lance.”

Her words were sharp and easily cut through him, driving him to answer without thinking. “Those events say fucking nothing about how I feel about Keith. I can have friends can’t I? God, It’s like none of you care about how I feel as a fucking teenager. All of you have turned into nothing but robotic soldiers who only know how to feel when you need to. Y’know I can’t believe to say I’m jealous of that, that you can stop feeling like that. Do you even miss Keith? He was basically confirmed totally dead until today. I’m sorry I’m sad and mentally affected by the fact I thought one of my friends died before ever saying goodbye.” He attempted to hold his tears back, but it was no use. His eyes burned attempting to hold back the storm raging behind his eyelids.

“Of course I miss Keith, are you insane? Obviously, you're not the only person who-”

“Lance. Pidge. Enough! The two of you know better than to participate in such pointless arguing.” Allura snapped. She stood firmly and spoke with utter annoyance. 

“Allura is right,” Shiro added, emerging from the hallway after using the restroom. “You two have no business arguing like kids. Pidge, you need to rest if you’re going to get better. It’s not going to help if you attack Lance ~~and expose his very obvious crush.~~ Lance, you need to get your head clear. This is a crucial time in our fight against the Galra and Keith's status is important but not to our cause. Voltron is one of the universe’s few chances at completely over throwing the Empire and we can’t work effectively if all of you continue accusing each other and fighting.” Shiro’s lecture silenced the entire room.

Lance’s mind spiraled. Shiro’s entire disregard for Keith made it seem like he was suddenly not the same person. Shiro had always seemed off since his return, and Lance thought little of it until this point. But this definitely concerned him. And he couldn’t even get started on Pidge’s mini outburst. All of this had thrown another 30 pounds of guilt and shame onto his back.

“Hey, guys I made some recovery snacks- bad time. Got it, “ Hunk said, stepping back out of the room and making his way back to the kitchen. Those snacks were getting cold. 

Shiro looked between Hunk and Pidge and Lance briefly. “Paladins, we’re going to try this again at a later time. Go have a rest.”

Everyone stood up and started leaving, presumably to go wind down for the night, or whatever Coran does. Of course everyone but Lance.

“I think I’m going to stay and train a little longer, clear my head and focus a little more.”

“That’s fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl, I'm not the most satisfied with this chapter but whatever lol


	7. mmm e d g y

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG TW, I know it's langst but if self harm is triggering please skip this one b
> 
> (also I rewrote this one like 7 times)

Lance heaved and his hands shook violently. 

He’d just submitted himself to rounds and rounds of drills in the training room, attempting to focus.  _ To get stronger. _ The guilt from the Pidge incident was eating him up, naturally he ensured that it would never happen again. However his shortcomings were evident, each exercise he subjected himself to was only of an intermediate difficulty, but he got the shit beat out of him. Cuts and bruises peppered his skin and his joints creaked from the lack of precaution he took when falling. And that was it, the final straw.

“I’m not strong enough. Not strong enough. No,” He stuttered frantically. His eyes shifted, left, right, left again, checking to see if anyone was watching him. His posture was tense, but his body was strained and exhausted from hours of over exertion. He stood hunched over the kitchen counter barely comprehending how tight his hand gripped the knife. “I’m not good enough, strong enough,  _ anything _ enough,” He sobbed to himself. 

_ Give in.  _

And so he did. Over and over and over again, he relished the feeling of blood and the twisted sense of atonement that came right after-

“Lance?” A hesitant voice rose over his sobs. “Lance what’re you doing?” Hunk saw the blood. “No. No, Lance!” The Yellow Paladin ran and grappled Lance, holding his dominant hand from his body, gripping firmly until the knife dropped to the ground. He stood there until Lance’s breaths slowed. 

“Hunk,” he said hesitantly. “I’m sorry, nobody was supposed to know.”

“What?” Lance let his head drop down onto the taller’s shoulder as cold tears began to saturate the fabric. “Lance, please, I don’t want to see you do this again.” Hunk pulled away from Lance to notice his condition: shaky hands, shaky  _ everything _ , he was definitely beat and tired and his arm was a jarring sight. One that Hunk never wanted to see on Lance again. 

…

It was sophomore year at the Garrison. Lance and Hunk had been roommates since middle school, best friends. Lance had always been  _ just okay _ at school which took a noticeable toll on him. That was the first time.

“Lance, buddy, Iverson wanted me to tell you-” 

“Hunk, I don’t want to hear the shit from Iverson. I know I failed the flight simulation exam again.” Lance had his back faced to the door, he was sitting at the desk in the dark, he could be doing anything. He spoke low and monotone, and irritated nonetheless. “Besides, I’m never getting promoted to Fighter Class because of that goddamn kid with a mullet. Shit he’s only here because of Shiro,” he ranted uselessly.

“Who? Keith?”

“Yeah,” Lance exhaled. “Ah, fuck,” he hissed. 

“You are definitely not doing homework,” Hunk approached the chair and spun Lance around to face the light coming from the hallway. The sun had now fully set and the hallway was the only light source. 

“Hunk! My Eyes!” Lance scowled as he’d just gotten used to the dim light of the window. 

“Lance, your arm. I’m taking you to the nurse.” 

The boy’s arm was covered in shallow cuts, some barely scabbed over and others freshly bleeding. His other hand loosely gripped a utility knife that Hunk kept on their shared desk space. 

“It’s past curfew.”

“Oh please, since when do you care about the curfew (definitely not when sneaking out to flirt with girls in other barracks)? Dude, I’m your best friend, I care about you. Do you think that I wouldn’t be concerned about,” he motioned at Lance’s arm, “ _ that. _ ” 

“Are you kidding? They’d kick me out if they saw this. You know how the government is about cadets with problems.”

“If I don’t I’d be a terrible friend. I mean, if you’re really feeling like this,  _ should you even really be here? _ ” Hunk said.

Lance’s eyes flickered with anger. “I want to stay, I want to be here so bad, it took so much for me to make it here. And my mom would be devastated if I didn’t stay, especially since she can’t say she had two Galaxy Garrison graduates. I don’t want to fall back into Veronica’s shadow. Hunk,  _ please, _ ” He choked out. Strained tears escaped his eyes and his formerly numb face went red with feeling. The desperation on his face was enough to make Hunk keep his promise. He felt  _ fucking awful _ and it was his greatest regret, but he kept his promise and didn’t tell the first time. Or any time. 

_ “Let’s go get you fixed up.” _

…

“Let’s go get you fixed up.” Hunk said, walking Lance to the dining table. Counters in this castle had the ability to disinfect themselves thanks to Pidge. After finagling with some buttons, Hunk averted his attention to Lance. 

The Blue paladin was undoubtedly stubborn as all hell. Each touch with the disinfectant soaked cloth was another protest. And he squirmed under bandages. The ship’s Altean medical products healed stuff far more efficiently than anything on Earth. Lance would practically be good overnight (everything still stung like a bitch though).

Hunk finished dabbing a green solution against Lance’s tanned wrist and pulled the black sleeve of his suit back down. 

“Are you good now? We can talk if you want, eat some of these delicious Gorbian herb pastries, eh, eh?”

“I’ll take one,” Lance sighed dejectedly. He stared down by his foot in nothing in particular. 

Hunk set the immaculately shaped bread into his hands as he began munching on one. “So, what do you wanna talk about? If it’s nothing I totally get that.”

Lance sucked in a breath. “The Pidge thing. Definitely that. I just, can’t believed I fucked up that bad, y’know. ‘S whatever I guess, I only seem to let all of you down.”

“No you don’t-”

Lance chuckled, followed by a slight voice crack. “Hunk, I almost  _ killed  _ Pidge during training, and I can’t focus for shit anyways. That’s why I was training for so long.  _ Maybe I’d learn.  _ And nobody wants to hear me talk about what bothers me anymore. I’m done with it, done with being the weakest link in this whole team,” he whispered hollowly. 

Hunk halted his chewing and gulped heavily. His eyebrows knitted together tightly as he looked at Lance from across the table. “Lance, we care about you. You can always come to us, you know that.”

“Can I really though?” He breathed. “All y’all do is make fun of me when I talk about the whole Keith thing. As if it doesn’t even matter how much it hurt to potentially think he died without ever saying goodbye. That he’d literally be a ghost after ghosting me for phoebs. As if y’all didn’t care to acknowledge that he’s actually still out there, that’s huge news”

“That’s awful, I presume that’s what I walked into earlier,” Hunk replied, mouth full.

“Bingo.” He admitted. Lance looked up to make eye contact with Hunk for the first time in an hour, “ Is my ‘crush’ on Keith really that bad?”

The large boy smirked, “Terrible. You are head over heels, Lance. But hey, who am I to judge, everyone deserves to be happy with someone they love. And dude, you two are actually oblivious to each other.  _ Everyone  _ can tell y’all are whipped for each other.” Hunk flailed his hands.

Lance blushed deeply and let out a chuckle. “Alright, thanks dude. This helped, I’ll see you in the morning yeah?” He stood up and finally took the first bite from the pastry. “Mmph, this is amazing,” he mumbled, pointing at the bread in his hand.

“It’s nice to know you enjoy my cooking. Good night, Lance.”

“Night.”

Lance walked off to his room. And he  _ definitely _ let Hunk’s words set in, he was practically blushing in his sleep.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> giving Hunk the character development he deserves is the vibe


	8. :0  what is this??? a reply???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this gets confusing to read but it's a lot easier to mimic texting instead of describing it lmao. Left align is Keith and right align is Lance.

Lance slept, slept well. At least for an hour or two, and then the thoughts became uncomfortable. All those pesky, overly analytical thoughts about Keith. How he wanted his dreams to be rose petals and the warm sun back home, dreams about Keith. Lance was a terrible lucid dreamer and gave up on the concept.

He let his eyelids open to face the barren ceiling and the faint blue glow of the lamp across the room, nothing new. The air around him was dry and leeched moisture from his breath. The ship ran so smooth that its engines were silent, so Lance was left alone with the deafening silence of space. Space, a soundless, infinite vacuum that was so expansive that isolated Lance in every possible way. He was trapped in his room by himself, the sound of his breathing, the smell of his room, and those spiraling thoughts about one Mr. Keith Kogane. It was terrible. 

Lance sat up and shuffled around his blanket, propping it up beside him. His hands slid over to where his phone was charging and removed it from the custom power adapter Pidge made him. He unlocked it using his finger print and watched as the orange screen flickered to life. He thumbed over to his messages and typed in a “Hey.” 

\---

**RED**

Hey.

I know we haven’t talked in a while or anything but...

\---

Lance deleted that. He tried out a couple more sentences to see if they seemed any better but everything he typed in looked too desperate. Of course, he was _the most_ desperate guy in the universe. Right? Whatever, he had nothing much to lose, Keith wasn’t going to reply so what was the point of feeling embarrassed. 

\---

**RED**

Hey.

U alive buddy? I wanna know. ;)

…

\---

The Red Paladin shot to attention when he saw the ellipses in the corner, _typing, Keith was typing._ This was the very moment Lance had been waiting for for almost a decaphoeb. A reply.

\---

**RED**

Hey.

U alive buddy? I wanna know. ;)

Yeah. 

wAIT SERIOUSLY?????

Yes, Lance. What, is this it? Just a confirmation that I’m alive or what?

Keith, u cant do me like that man

I wait for a text back from you for a whole year and this is what you give me???

Well, yes.

Oh my god, I can’t believe you still text like an old man

I don’t.

You use complete sentences n punctuation

And? I don’t see any need to not do that.

Besides, tons of people text with proper grammar.

Old ones >:P

Shut up.

\---

“Shut up,” Lance whispered to himself, staring intently at his phone. This was _not_ the conversation he wanted to have with Keith, but it felt so nice to hear that mullet-having bastard tell him to shut up again. His hands got clammy and the smile on his face was stretched so wide he’d definitely get wrinkles from smiling that hard. His heart was pounding and he had enough energy to run circles around the massive castle. Of course he didn’t, that would wake everyone up, but he totally could.

\---

**RED**

But ye can’t just do me like this Keith

I literally haven’t talked to u in so long, like

How are you? 

I mean, I’m good, just busy. Sorry for not picking up by the way.

The blades need me to not have any form of identifiable signals on me. I can’t just have

my cell on. It’s apparently not nearly high tech enough to encrypt so I leave it on base.

Makes sense, but you just left no warning

No goodbye

Nothing

THat sorry was wayyyyyyyy overdue, mullet

Hey, calm down, calm down. 

I read all your messages, it just didn’t go through because of the signal blocking.

And at least I apologized, better late then never. ;)

Did you just

uSE AN EMOTICON KEITH???

Ashdbajdhjdfnd

So what? I can have fun when texting too.

Bro wtf? Your Keith, Mr. stick so far up my ass serious

I haven’t seen you use emoticons ever.

*you're

Pshh I’m not that boring, Lance.

Hmph, yes you are

Yeah, okay. Haha.

I digress

Nice vocabulary word, did you learn that from Pidge?

Fuck all the way off 

As I was saying before you RUDELY interrupted me

When r you gonna visit me??

Why would I want to do that?

>:0

Just kidding. 

I don’t know, our missions are getting more and more dangerous.

I’m moving up in the ranks and Kolivan is deploying me on more missions, and we’re burning

hot on some commander’s trail. We are closer to cracking the Galra’s use

of quintessence than ever.

Heavy shit man. We just helped the blades actually

I heard about that. Someone reported that you guys had to fight off the Galra in your lions.

We couldn’t e x a c t l y form Voltron at the time

I almost died again whoops

Lance.

\---

Oh shit. Keith was probably going to be pissed. Lance continued to stare at the screen and began to chew at the nails of his left hand. Keith always hated Lance talking about how much he got hurt during missions. Maybe it was that stupid bonding moment he didn’t want to let go. Not that Lance remembered that (as if it even happened.) 

\---

**RED**

We couldn’t e x a c t l y form Voltron at the time

I almost died again whoops

Lance.

You’re joking, right?

Nope

Lance, I can’t believe you right now. Why are you constantly endangering yourself?

It’s not like you’re literally a paladin of Voltron or anything. It’s too dangerous for you

to keep getting hurt. I can’t stand you doing shit like that.

Hey! I get that you love me buddy

But I did not get myself hurt. Everyone else was too busy to notice when their LOOKOUT

spotted the galra and didn’t respond when that buff commander lady beat the shit out of me

Of course she was no match for my epic combat skills.

Okay, so then why were you out of commission? 

That’s not the point!!!

Fine. But if you had gotten to the point, I would be able to talk to you mpre. 

*More

Heh, nice spelling error.

And isn’t it way early?

Using standard time, yes but the blades use a separate time system

In case any messages are intercepted, it confuses anyone who doesn’t know it.

I have to be up soon.

Really? What a drag

Hey, we’ve been talking for a while have you been sleeping well?

No.

Makes the two of us

Listen, I really gotta go. Take care of yourself, Lance.

Bye

_Read 12:49 p.m._

_\---_

“Not sleeping well? Not sleeping well!” Lance yelled at his phone screen.

Anger began to bubble up in his core. He could not believe that Keith wasn’t sleeping. Sure it meant they could talk, just the two of them over text like this but that was a quality Lance and Keith mutually hated about each other. Keith constantly criticized how Lance would whine and whine about his skincare and then proceed to get unnecessarily injured in battle and cover it with a smile and some bandaids (what an airhead). And Keith, he notoriously took no time for himself ever. He was becoming a mini Shiro with the fact that the battle was the only thing on his mind. Not his skin, or his hair, or the fact that he never actually slept. Lance always expected him to totally black out after missions but he was always awake somehow and rarely ever needed caffeine. It was really strange. His urge to scoop Keith up and take care of him was overwhelming, but Lance didn’t want to seem to clingy. He used to refrain from telling Keith about his injuries before he left for the Blades to prevent him from getting mad.

Those are the two things that Lance never wanted to see Keith do: Be mad at him, and hurt himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha sorry for forgetting to update this fic, I got really stuck with trying to write this chapter and ended up forgetting about it entirely. I'll try and get back on finishing it.


End file.
